


Turn At Last To Home Afar

by CallicoKitten



Series: trees and hills they long have known [2]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Fluff, Gen, Implied Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-24
Updated: 2013-12-24
Packaged: 2018-01-05 23:33:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1099860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CallicoKitten/pseuds/CallicoKitten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You know,” Bilbo says after a few minutes of silence. “I think I might write it all down, publish it. It might help people remember, you know? Maybe Frodo will remember his story too.”</p><p> </p><p>Sequel to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/614350">The Road Goes Ever On</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	Turn At Last To Home Afar

**Author's Note:**

> This is dumb fluff written because christmas.
> 
> happy holidays guys! i hope you've all had a great year and if you haven't (like me) don't worry, there's always next year :3

They've been together a year, him and Thorin, _Thornton_ Oakenshield, heir to Erebor Inc. the biggest mining company in Europe.

They live in Bilbo's flat, Thorin could easily buy them a mansion or two, somewhere with a garden, somewhere in the country, but he's not one for grandeur. Not anymore at least. ( _Dragon sickness_ , Bilbo thinks, _best to avoid a repeat of **that**._ ) Bilbo still goes to work, still potters about and spends more time reading than his coworkers think he should. Thorin buys him a kindle for his birthday but Bilbo never uses it, he missed the pages and the smell and the weight of the books in his hands. Thorin only smiled.

They travel. Hike across the States and South America, explore the outback, backpack across Europe.

And Bilbo is happy, wonderfully, stupidly happy.

-

"When did you remember?" he asks, one evening when they're camping out in the Pyrenees. Thorin looks right out here, Bilbo thinks, in the wild, in the mountains.

Thorin sits back thoughtfully, "My godfather used to sing me this song when I was younger. I think it started there. And then when I was younger we almost lost the company because of a man who called himself the Dragon. We lost our home and I realised that this had happened before."

Bilbo's lying with his head on Thorin's chest, "I remember seeing that in the papers. He robbed you, right? Some police man caught him, B-something."

"Bard," Thorin reminds him.

"Bard," Bilbo repeats, remembers. "He shot the dragon, didn't he? The man from Laketown."

"Yes, that was him," Thorin says, carding a hand through Bilbo's hair.

Bilbo remembers it now, the fierce man, warning them to turn back, knowing what they'd unleash on Laketown, remembers feeling helpless as he watched Smaug fly off to the town, gold flecks still falling from his wings, underside alight with dragonfire. He closes his eyes briefly against the wave of horror.

"The song," he says, when he finds his voice again. "How did the song go?"

Thorin is quiet for a moment before he begins to sing in a low, rich rumble, " _Far over the misty mountains cold..._ "

-

He meets Thorin's family, his sister, Dis, ( _short for something even worse than Thornton,_ she had said) with her fierce blue eyes and her boisterous sons, Fili and Kili (nicknames of course.) Balin, his godfather and Dwalin.

"Do they remember?" Bilbo asks later.

And Thorin shakes his head, "Not yet. Not that I know, anyway. Balin used to say he didn't know where the song came from."

"Does anyone remember?" 

"Bard does, now at least. We used to talk about it a lot before his wife died."

Bilbo remembers Bard's children, it was hard raising a family alone then and it can't have got any easier. "That must have been hard for him." He says.

Thorin nods, "He knew it was going to happen. Or he suspected it would, it happened before after all. I don't think that made it any easier though."

-

Thorin meets Freddie once, frowns every time Bilbo accidently calls him Frodo.

"I don't remember him," he says once Freddie's gone.

"You wouldn't," Bilbo replies, he remembers Frodo's story now. Remembered it slowly through dreams and flashes. "You were - " he still stammers whenever he thinks about Thorin and _death_ (he was _dead_ by then, _dead_.) "You weren't around for his part."

Thorin inclines his head, "He did something important then?"

"He saved the world," Bilbo says, with a hint of pride.

"Tell me about it," Thorin says.

And Bilbo does.

-

Sometimes Bilbo wonders if this is all real, if this is just something Gandalf or someone made up for them. Maybe it's a second chance, maybe it's just way lives are lived.

He doesn't remember everything, there are more gaps in his memories then there are firm occurrences. He remembers faces without names, names without faces. Like the impossibly tall man from the local university who pops into the bookshop every now and again to browse through their second hand section and talks with Bilbo about his study of long dead cultures and languages. He's sometimes accompanied by a daughter who is breathtakingly beautiful or twin sons, identical to the last hair.

Bilbo _knows_ them but they aren't fully formed in his mind yet. He thinks about asking Thorin but he never seems to get around to it.

Thorin doesn't remember everything either, he doesn't remember Gandalf at all, can't name all the dwarves in their company. They remember some things differently but they both know how it ended back then. 

Thorin knows more than him though, Bilbo thinks, he's found more people, lived with it longer. 

Bilbo's started to write it all down, the story, the people he finds, what they do know. He reads it to Fili and Kili on a camping trip one evening, the story, not the part about the people he's found. 

"You could publish that!" Fili tells him when he's done. "Kids would love it!"

"They could make it into a movie!" Kili adds. "You'd be richer than us!"

Bilbo tells them he'll think about it, smiling widely. 

-

“I met a man today,” Thorin says. It’s autumn, still warm out so they’re sat on the balcony, Bilbo working on his notes, Thorin pretending to read the paper. “Tall with a grey beard.”

Bilbo looks up, “Oh, right?”

“He knew me, asked after you,” Thorin says. “Don’t remember his name though. I’m assuming he’s your Gandalf.”

Bilbo smiles, “Could be.”

Thorin grins.

“What did you talk about?” Bilbo asks curiously.

“That’s between me and the wizard, hobbit,” Thorin smirks. 

Bilbo thinks about bugging him, pressuring him. Thorin’s always been stubborn though, there’d be no point. “Fine,” he says, sitting back and fixing Thorin with a mock-glare, “Keep your secrets, dwarf.”

Thorin chuckles, “I am over six foot here, you know.” 

“Yes, I am very aware of that fact, thank you.” He sits forward again, chewing his pen thoughtfully. “You will tell me eventually though, right?”

Thorin smirks again and Bilbo shakes his head, “You are _impossible_.” and Thorin chuckles.

“You know,” Bilbo says after a few minutes of silence. “I think I might write it all down, publish it. It might help people remember, you know? Maybe Frodo will remember his story too.”

 

-

"I think we should try and find them," Bilbo says. "All of them." 

It’s Christmas Eve and in typical London fashion it’s raining. Thorin’s dragging him out anyway though, something he just _has_ to show him even though there’s so much traffic they’ve had to walk and are both thoroughly soaked and freezing. And they’re still struggling to navigate their way through the crowds as they duck through back streets and alleyways.

His book is halfway done, he’s already found a publisher.

Thorin smiles down at him as they walk, "Why? We found each other. Maybe we should just let things take their course." 

Bilbo huffs, “I’m tired of waiting.” He misses them and it’s strange, it’s not the bone deep ache he felt for Thorin but it’s on par with it. “They deserve to remember, they were heroes.” 

“They’ll find us when they’re ready,” Thorin insists, taking Bilbo by the hand, “Now, come on. We’ll be late.”

“Are we meeting someone?” Bilbo asks, as he’s rushed through the crowds by Thorin. 

Thorin grins, “You’ll see.”

“A _pie shop_ ,” Bilbo says, when Thorin eventually slows down. “Really?”

Thorin nods with a smile and then he’s waving at someone leaning against the window of the shop. “Bard,” he greets warmly, shaking the man’s hand.

Bard’s smile is easier than Bilbo remembers it, “Thorin,” he nods before turning to Bilbo, “Ah, the hobbit. I remember you.”

They shake hands and Bilbo smiles back, “I remember you too, bowman.” 

“Shall we then?” Bard says, indicating the shop door. “I left the kids at home today, so it’ll just be us.” He holds open the door for the old man whose leaving (for the old man who winks at Bilbo and holds a coffee cup with _Gray_ scrawled across it in black pen.)

-

The inside of the shop is forest themed, stump chairs and intricately patterned tables, ivy hanging from the ceiling. It shouldn’t work but it really does. Fili and Kili are there and Bilbo’s not sure if it’s because Thorin asked them here or if it’s more to do with the way Kili’s obviously fawning over the pretty red haired waitress (though he suspects the latter.) They wave frantically as Thorin and Bilbo make their way over to them and sit down in the booth next to theirs. 

Bard turns in his seat to talk to Fili and Thorin nudges Bilbo and nods towards the counter. A bored looking man with white blond hair swept into a neat ponytail is on the till while a teenager stands beside him and glares at Kili and the waitress. Bilbo chuckles incredulously, “Is that the Elven king?”

Thorin nods looking far too pleased to be decent, “Thranduil and Prince Legolas, owners of a pie shop.”

“How long have you known?” Bilbo asks as Thranduil’s gaze falls upon them and he rolls his eyes with something like familiarity as Thorin meets his gaze.

“Oh, a long time. I didn’t remember them properly before I met Bard.”

“We should put some tables together,” Kili says loudly as the waitress - _Tauriel_ , Bilbo suddenly remembers - appears beside them. “Is there anything I can get you guys?” she asks.

“Not just yet,” Thorin answers for them, “We’re waiting for a few more.”

“Drinks then?” she asks.

They order and she smiles and nods and promises to ask about putting the tables together - promises they can even if the boss says no.

\- 

Balin, who Bilbo hadn’t met yet, and his biker brother are the next to arrive. Tauriel’s put together the tables for them by now, much to Thranduil’s annoyance, and they’ve all got drinks. Then there’s Oin and Gloin, whose son is trailing after him, and who both look bemused - their Balin’s cousins but Bilbo doesn’t think they’ve ever met Thorin, not that it matters because within a few minutes it’s like they never got new names and new homes, it’s like they’re back in Middle Earth. 

The others trickle in slowly and Bard or Thorin will fill Bilbo in on how they found them, how they convinced them to come to a Christmas Eve do in an obscure pie restaurant with a bunch of strangers. Bomber is just as enthusiastic about food as he always was, a food critic now, supporting his brother’s attempt to launch a comedy career. Ori’s a student, Bifur is still terrifying and mostly unintelligible and a wonderful toymaker and they’re all as loud as ever.

Bilbo doesn’t know if they remember or not but sitting there in the pie shop laughing feels right, feels like home again. Thorin’s hand is on his knee under the table and of in another booth Gloin’s son is chatting to Legolas and they’re both pretending not to be as interested as they are and Thranduil is smiling a little as Thorin talks to him about business, it’s all so right that Bilbo might burst.

-

They wait for a cab outside the closed shop and Thorin says, “I did that for you, you know, so you could write your book.”

Bilbo yanks him lower so they’re almost eye to eye, “You idiot,” he says. “You wonderful, brilliant idiot.” And Thorin laughs so hard he stumbles a little, pulling Bilbo to his chest.

“If it snows,” Bilbo mutters into Thorin’s coat. “If it snows I might cry, you know, and you are not allowed to tell anyone about it ever, under pain of death.”

-

It doesn’t snow, not that night, but maybe Bilbo’s eyes get a little misty as they climb into the cab and that’s really neither here nor there.


End file.
